


Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

by Whatthef0ucault



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Diego Hargreeves, Corset, Could Be Canon, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Listening, Food, Gyms, Hair-pulling, High Heels, Klaus Hargreeves in tights, Leather, M/M, Non-Binary Klaus Hargreeves, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Klaus Hargreeves, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Pseudo-Incest, Submissive Diego Hargreeves, Top Klaus Hargreeves, could be au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 08:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatthef0ucault/pseuds/Whatthef0ucault
Summary: “Pft, I’d like to see you come over here and make me,” Diego scoffed with a small roll of his eyes as he turned his back to Klaus to walk over to a new bag. Klaus’ mouth fell open in faux surprise, and then he crossed his arms over his slender chest with a raised eyebrow of his own unbeknownst to Diego. Two could play at this old game, especially since it was Klaus’ favorite.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon prompt on Tumblr: “Come over here and make me.”
> 
> Title credited to my lovely [beta](https://sadtrashwitch.tumblr.com/).

The thudding hits to the punching bag mixed in with the general cacophony of masculine grunts, shouted heckling around the boxing ring, and general locker room talk among the athletes. Diego was laser focused, imagining his up and coming opponent for his next match tomorrow night in place of the bag. It was set to be the biggest match of his budding career, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous (which of course is what he did say). 

It wasn’t that Klaus was bored by the sight of his topless, powerful, talented, down-right _ hot _ boyfriend throwing punches and practicing combos. Rather, he had been watching off and on all day in between his weekly meetings (i.e. group therapy) and his human needs for food and water and naps. He normally knew better than to try to pull Diego away from a task he was so fixated on by this point in their relationship. Still, a person had needs that he couldn’t (and didn’t want to) fulfill on his own, and all of this had already crossed into unhealthy territory three hours ago. 

“Dahling,” Klaus tapped Diego on the shoulder lightly with a humorous flair to his voice, “I do believe one must, as they say in every fitness realm, stay hydrated.” He held out the full water bottle in his hand that had been empty on the floor next to Diego just moments ago.

“Thanks, Baby.” Diego took a few more swings at the bag before he finally stopped for a moment to remove a glove and take the offered drink with a planted a kiss to Klaus’ cheek.

“How’s training coming along? I see its still attached to the frame,” Klaus asked, reaching a hand out to try to neaten up Diego’s messy, sweat soaked hair. The boxer tried to pull his head away in slight annoyance which only delighted Klaus. 

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Diego commented dryly.

“Gotta save up your energy for tomorrow, Champ.” 

“Nah, I’m gonna go for one more hour, I think,” Diego said calm, cool, and collected to soothe over that feeling of nerves trying to creep in at the thought of stopping. 

“But I’m _ starving_, and you haven’t eaten all day,” Klaus whined purposefully with his hands gesturing to his tank top clad stomach and then at Diego’s half-naked figure. 

“Its fine, Babe, there’s food in the fridge, and I’ll eat when I’m finished,” Diego explained, completely not catching on to Klaus’ efforts of persuasion while he put the damn boxing gloves back on. Klaus let the shock move through him as the other did the exact opposite of what he wanted (and what Diego needed) by starting to punch at the bag once more. 

“Come on, Diego. You’ve been at it all day-” he tried, a bit firmer. 

“I’m _ fine_, and I’ll be done soon,” Diego insisted. Klaus moved to stand between him and the bag. 

“No. No, you’re done now. Go back to the apartment, Diego,” Klaus challenged, unfaltering, with a finger pointed in the direction of the boiler room. Of course, Klaus was well prepared for what he was getting into, and he read it all over the boxer’s face as his dominant streak passed over cocky, full lips. Klaus watched the process subvert before his eyes as Diego raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and then sank into a Fresh look. 

“Pft, I’d like to see you come over here and make me,” Diego scoffed with a small roll of his eyes as he turned his back to Klaus to walk over to a new bag. Klaus’ mouth fell open in faux surprise, and then he crossed his arms over his slender chest with a raised eyebrow of his own unbeknownst to Diego. Two could play at this old game, especially since it was Klaus’ favorite. 

Exasperated, Diego couldn’t believe Klaus had tried to stop him. He needed to be ready, and he simply wasn’t. Something still felt off and imperfect, and he didn’t want to rest until he could shake the doubt. He loved Klaus with his whole being, but sometimes they got on each other’s nerves as was only natural after so much time spent together.

What was unnatural was the sound that left him when Klaus stepped in front of him again a good thirty minutes later in a tiny, little black skirt; thigh-high, black, opaque tights; a white and black, leather accented, corset top (with adorable lace adorned on his shoulders and collarbones); and a matching black, lace choker. Dark brown eyes made darker by evolution’s little tell-tale sign of desire started at knee-high, leather, heeled boots and sifted up through the details until blown pupils settled on Klaus’ deep, crimson painted lips and the stark contrast between his green-hazel eyes and the black, smokey eyeshadow framing it with impossible depth. There was a perfectly timed whistle from someone, somewhere outside of Diego’s hyper-fixated field of vision. Had he been paying attention, he would have thrown a warning glare in their direction. 

Said lips were pulled into a serious expression, and the silent raised-eyebrow in question was met with Diego’s impossibly widened eyes and his need to clear his suddenly dry throat. His awareness snapped back to something indescribable made shaky inside him the moment Klaus reappeared as it completely collapsed. It was as if Klaus could see the destruction as a first hand witness, because he smirked then, wholly pleased, and stepped forward. Diego’s heartbeat picked up in avid anticipation, knees and calves tingling and straining under his body weight, and a faint blush snuck up his chest and into his cheeks while the blood simultaneously flowed south and pooled hot in his lower stomach. The now taller man reached out and took Diego’s boxing gloves off one-by-one without a word while the boxer watched, helpless. Klaus gently pressed them into Diego’s chest, and then he secured their hands to lead him away. 

A couple of familiar gym regulars had seen the display and made little celebratory woops and pats to Diego’s shoulder as they passed, though his attention was rapt in the lines of Klaus’ bare back above cross crossed lacing, and then down to his pert ass and a stripe of strong thigh muscles. Klaus walked him down the hall towards the boiler-room apartment. 

“Sometimes, a stubborn man just needs a little bit of persuasion to know what's good for him,” Klaus spoke in this specifically light, 'high-class', teasing tone that he had learned a little while ago could wake up this little dormant part of Diego. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” Diego agreed, distracted. He had a hand reaching trying to touch at the risque sight he was still staring at.

“Now,” Klaus started, turning to face Diego before he could make contact as they made it to the door, “you’re going to do something for me, Baby Boy.” A chipped, nail-polished hand rubbed at Diego’s bare shoulder before pressing down. 

Before the other could even think of needing force, Diego obeyed and got down on his knees easily with a soft “a-anything, Mixtress.” 

A slight hiss left Diego’s lips as a heel bit into his skin next to his nipple piercing where Klaus stood above him with a foot pressed into his naked, scarred chest. 

“You’re going to make us dinner, and if you do well, I might even let you eat with me,” Klaus smiled, knowing and sweet with how Diego perked up at that. He leaned his weight into the other’s chest a little more, and Diego’s eyes sneaked a hungry peek up the skirt for a brief second. “And after that, if you’re still good for me, I might even reward you.”

“Yeah?” The man on his knees asked, hopeful through his straining. “You think I can be good for you?” 

Klaus answered by removing the pressure and standing up straight again. He opened the door and grabbed a fistfull of Diego’s short, sweat soaked hair and gently dragged his crawling body into the apartment, Diego’s affected moans following. 

  
“Yes, my Love, because I’m going to _ make _ you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to follow me on [ tumblr](https://letsbakethatcake.tumblr.com/). Also, please feel free to leave feedback! 
> 
> Also also, Chapter 2 is going somewhere...somewhere very expected.


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